Cigars and cigarettes descended from God. Vapes were born of Hades. Gars and Rettes have a beginning and an end, an Αlpha and an Ωmega. You're forced to pause what you're doing, go outside, take a deep breath, and strike a match. And so begins the divine ritual. For roughly five minutes (cigarette) or 20 minutes (cigar) you find solace below the heavens. For each inhale you sing the Lord's prayer, and each exhale you thank Christ for His glorious sacrifice. You are in meditation, a higher being. One whose day broke from the constraints of time to feed something greater, the miracle of consciousness in contemplation. In this break, problems get solved, ideas are created, and man finds the meaning that Frankl so desperately searched for. Vapes follow no method. They are demonic, a constant hit to an insatiable lust. No form, no romance, no tradition. Just a mechanical action devoid of spirit. Pure sin without apology and, even worse, no reflection. They prey on the human will to least resistance. Each puff strips man of his discipline. And each carton changed strips him of his dignity. Vaping will cost you your soul, but in the spirit of Christ, a cigarette will deliver you and a cigar will make you whole again.